


Are you going to think about me?

by liairene



Series: A Visitor's Guide to Highbury [18]
Category: Emma - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
Genre: Accountants, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bakery and Coffee Shop, F/M, Modern Era, Small Towns, good uncles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:27:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27444121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liairene/pseuds/liairene
Summary: George Knightley spent a weekend babysitting his niece and nephews. Upon his return, he is tired, and he apparently has not communicated enough with his fiancee.
Relationships: Elinor Dashwood/Edward Ferrars, Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, George Knightley/Emma Woodhouse, Isabella Knightley/John Knightley, Izzy Knightley/John Knightley
Series: A Visitor's Guide to Highbury [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/908481
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Are you going to think about me?

“Are you going to think about me?”

“I’m going away for less than a week, Em. I’m literally just going to spend five days at my brother’s house, and then I’ll be back here.”

“Yeah, but are you going to think about me during those five days?”

George laughed. “I might. We’ll see.”

Emma pouted. “I’m your fiancée.”

“You are. I should try to think about you while I’m babysitting our niece and nephews while my brother and your sister go away for their babymoon.”

“You really should. I hope you have time for that.”

He laughed. ”I hope so too. Well, I mean; I hope that between balancing the kids’ schedules and trying to do at least some of my job remotely I’ll have at least three minutes to think about you.”

She smiled. “Maybe you’ll even call me once?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t promise you anything. But I’ll try.”

Emma threw a couch cushion at her fiancé. “George Louis Knightley, you are truly awful.”

“I’m great,” he protested as he hugged the pillow to his chest.

“You are terrible. You are a terrible human being.”

George leaned back into the couch cushions and grinned. “And yet, you love me.”

“Yeah, somehow,” she replied. “I’m not really sure why, but I do.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her into his chest. “Just shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Oh fine,” he sighed before kissing her.

* * *

George was gone for a bit more than five days. He left on Thursday morning and came home early Tuesday morning. He strolled into his office shortly before noon on Tuesday and slumped into his chair with a sigh.

“Yes?” Will queried without looking up from his computer.

“I left Sotherton at seven o’clock this morning and drove straight here. Why did I do that?”

“For personal reasons?” Ed offered.

“For reasons known only to God,” Will added.

“I’m exhausted.”

Will looked up. “Have you had coffee yet?”

“I had some when I left my brother’s house.”

“But you didn’t stop anywhere on the way up here?”

“Nope.”

“And you didn’t stop at the KW before coming here?”

George shook his head.

Will clucked and adjusted his glasses. “You should have.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t. And I wasn’t planning on stopping for a lunch break today. But I don’t have a lunch.”

“These sound like personal problems, don’t they, Ed?”

Ed nodded. “I don’t think that we should be concerned about them.”

George slammed a fist on his desk. “Would either of you two be planning on getting lunch from the KW today?”

“I’m having lunch with Nora today,” Ed confessed.

“So you could get me coffee and save my life?”

“It’s possible.”

“Will you please do it?”

“I’m not leaving for another half hour.”

George sighed. “I need coffee.”

“We should get a coffeemaker for the office,” Will mused.

Ed shrugged. “We’re accountants.”

“Accountants can drink coffee.”

“Right, but I have a coffeemaker at home, and you have one at your place. And we all frequent the KW. Why do we need a coffeemaker here? It’s not practical or cost-effective.”

Will smiled. “You have a point.”

“I always have a point.”

George sighed loudly. “Is someone going to bring me coffee? Please, I’m begging you.”

“Oh, fine,” Will replied. “I’ll go bother my wife.”

“Is she there?”

“It’s Tuesday, right?”

George nodded wearily.

“Yeah, she’s there. She’ll be there until one.”

“And you’re going over there now please?”

Will chuckled and closed his computer. “Right, I’m taking lunch. I’ll be back as ASAP as possible.”

* * *

A few minutes later, Will ambled into the Knit Wit. His wife was behind the counter with a book, but she looked up with a smile when the bell over the door announced his arrival. “Francis William Darcy, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ve told you not to use that name in public.”

She shrugged. “There’s no one else around.”

“Annie is around.”

Elsa rolled her eyes. “She already knows.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “George just got back from Sotherton, and he hasn’t had coffee since he left at seven. He always wants lunch.”

“Oh lord,” his wife replied. “I’ll get you one George Knightley special. What would you like?”

He looked quietly at the board over her head. “I need a large hot tea and large chili to go.”

“Would you also like a side salad?”

“Would you let me get away with not ordering one?”

She snorted. “Not likely, how will you be paying?”

“Firm credit card.”

His wife raised her eyebrows. “Firm credit card?”

“George made me go get him coffee, so he has to pay for all of this.”

Elsa smiled as she rang up the transaction. “You’re absurd.”

“And yet, you love me.”

She began preparing George’s coffee. “My mother says that I have poor decision-making skills.”

“Your mother says many things.”

Elsa set a paper cup on the counter and turned to prepare a cup of tea. “I have noticed that over the past thirty or so years.”

Will smiled. “I don’t want to offend you.”

She nested George’s cup of coffee, Will’s tea, and a third cup into a drink carrier before beginning to prepare Will’s food order. “She’s my mother, Will, I know her well.”

“As her son-in-law, I’m trying to be respectful.”

Elsa rolled her eyes. “This is the Great Mary Frances we’re talking about, honey. I know what you’re going to say.”

“Give me my lunch and I’ll see you this evening?”

“Please,” his wife replied drolly.

“You really want to see me tonight?”

“Please give me my lunch,” she prompted blandly.

He blinked. “You have my lunch. I don’t have yours.”

She chuckled. “Okay, Abbot, if that’s how you’re going to play it, Costello won’t give you your lunch.”

“Fine,” Will sighed. “Could I please have my lunch?”

Elsa smiled brightly and pushed the drink carrier and a medium-sized paper bag across the counter. “There you be.”

“Why are there three cups?”

“Your tea, George’s coffee, and something that he’ll probably want in about two hours,” she answered. “Put it in the fridge.”

“What is it?”

“Sludge.” Others would have said straight espresso, but Elsa was her own person.

Will wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

She shrugged. “He likes it. And I’m sure he’s beat after spending a weekend with those kids and then driving straight here.” She rattled the bag slightly. “His lunch is in here too.”

He realized that she’d never asked him what to get George. “How’d you know what to get him?”

Elsa blinked. “I’ve known George for as long as I’ve been alive. I’ve worked here since I was seventeen. I’m pretty sure that I know what he wants.”

“And what does he want?”

“Caffeine and a good Reuben with extra sauce.”

Her husband nodded seriously. “That’s a good sandwich. He has good taste.”

“But you already knew that.”

Will laughed and shook his head. “But you believe that a person’s sandwich choice is a window to their soul.”

“And their drink order,” she added. “You can tell a lot about a person based on what they choose to put into their body.”

He smiled. “I feel like Chris has a similar philosophy.”

“You know what they say about bartenders and baristas.”

“No, I really don’t.”

“I’ll tell you about it later. Now, you should probably get back to work. George needs his caffeine.”

Will leaned across the counter and pecked his wife’s lips. “I’ll see you this evening.”

“I’ll be home around six.”

He picked up the drink carrier and the bag. “I’ll have dinner ready shortly thereafter.”

“I love you.”

He pressed his lips to her cheekbone next to her ear. “I love you too.”

* * *

“Apparently my wife loves you,” Will announced as he walked into his office a few minutes later.

“We always knew that.”

“She sent you coffee for now and sludge for later.”

George grabbed the coffee cup from Will’s hand. “Put the sludge in the fridge.”

“How can you drink that stuff?” Will queried.

His coworker shrugged. “When you really need caffeine, you do what you need to.”

“I still don’t understand how someone who is as dependent on caffeine as you are doesn’t own a coffeemaker,” Ed inserted.

“It’s a gift,” George told him taking a sip of coffee.

Ed nodded. “I’m aware. I’m just not sure if it’s a good gift.”

“Of course it is. In fact, it’s not just a good gift. It’s a great one.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Anyway, she sent you coffee, sludge, and a sandwich.”

“A true angel, your wife.”

“Yeah, and she’s my wife. You want an angel? Get one of your own.”

“Are we calling Elsa Bennet an angel now?” Ed inserted.

His cousin whipped around to glare at him. “That’s Elsa Bennet-Darcy to you.”

“Yeah, that one, are we calling her an angel now?”

Will pressed his lips together for a moment before replying, “Apparently.”

“I’d love to hear how she’d reply to being called an angel.”

Her husband snorted. “She’d probably fall over laughing. After all, Charlie is always calling Gwen an angel, and she thinks that’s absurd.”

George gagged. “I’m grateful for the coffee, but I know that Elsa is no angel. Remember. I used to babysit her.”

“I still can’t believe that actually happened,” Ed remarked.

“Oh, it happened alright. It was the weirdest summer of my life.” George took another sip of coffee and shook his head. “You’d better believe that it happened. I’m not likely to ever forget it. Now, where’s my sandwich?”

Will passed him the bag. “Leave my chili and salad on my desk.”

“You got it.”

* * *

George left his office at a quarter past five and stopped at the Knit Wit for another cup of coffee before making his way home. Annie was behind the counter knitting along on a light blue sock. Her face lit up when she looked up to see him. “You’re home!”

“I got in around lunchtime.”

“How was your trip? How are your niblings?”

He grinned. “I love that you know that word.”

“You taught it to me!”

“And you remember it and actually use it. No one else does. Emma definitely doesn’t.”

She smiled. “I like fun words. You know that. Language is fun.”

“That’s why you majored in business?”

“No, I majored in business because it was practical. Now, speaking of being practical, what can I get for you?”

“I need another coffee.”

“The George Knightley special?”

He sighed. “Please. Wait.”

“What?”

“Is that what it’s listed as on the menu?”

She shook her head. “It’s not on the menu. That’s just what we call it.”

“Then how do you ring it up?”

“It’s a large cup of a coffee and a shot of espresso. So we just ring up both of those things.”

George’s face fell. “Oh.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel less special.”

She shrugged. “We still call it the George Knightley special. We’ve just never programmed that into the computer.”

“Well, why not?”

“It’s too much for work for an order that only one person ever orders.”

“I’m the only one who gets that?”

Annie handed him the steaming cup with a casual shrug. “Well, pretty much, yeah.”

“I would have thought it would be more popular in a college town.”

“I guess not.”

“Well, I guess college students are dumber than I thought.”

“Or at least less caffeine dependent than you were.”

He nodded. “I was very caffeine dependent when I was in school.”

“I didn’t really know you then.”

“I was a few hundred miles away back then.”

“And I was in high school for most of your colleges.”

“Anyway,” he said. “I should get going.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

He grinned. “I’ll be back tomorrow for my breakfast.”

“I’ll see you then.”

* * *

George went home, threw his bags on the floor of his room, and flopped on his bed. It had been a very long day coming directly on the heels of a very busy weekend. He sighed and closed his eyes. He just wanted to rest for a few minutes before he went to have lunch with Emma and her father. The next thing that he knew someone was shaking him. He opened his eyes in a dark room to see Emma sitting on the edge of his bed. He rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”

“It’s about eight-thirty.”

“Oh man, I drank coffee after work and everything.” He yawned and stretched one arm. “I didn’t want to fall asleep. I meant to go over to your place for dinner. Rats.”

Emma rubbed his shoulder and smiled gently. “It’s okay. We get it. Even Dad gets it. You’re tired. Anyone would be in your shoes.”

“Shit, are my shoes still on my feet?” George lifted up his feet and sighed. “Shit, this has been a doozy of a day.”

Emma smiled. “It’s okay, babe.” She ran a hand over his forehead. “You’ve had a long weekend.”

“It was a long weekend.”

She turned on the light on his bedside table. “How were the kids?”

“They were great, but they’re exhausting. They have so much energy, Em. They get up so early and they never stop. They just never stop.

His fiancée ran a hand over his head. “I’m sorry, babe. I know that John and Izzy really appreciated you watching the kids.”

“And I don’t mind the kids. I’m just exhausted. And I should not have tried to go to work today when I got back. I’m beat.”

“Obviously.”

He sighed. “I guess I just overdid it today.”

Emma shrugged her shoulders. “It happens to the best of us. You were trying to be Superman, and you forgot that you’re just Captain America.”

“I don’t think that anyone has ever said that before.”

“What?”

“I don’t think that anyone has ever called Steve Rogers JUST Captain America.”

“I’m not calling Steve Rogers that,” she insisted. “I’m calling you that.”

“So I’m _just_ Captain America?”

“Well, you’re not Superman. I can tell you that.”

“Gee, thanks, Emma,” he sighed.

“What?” she replied. “You know that I love you.”

“I know, but I don’t know. The way you’re describing me right now, it’s not making me feel very good about myself right now.”

“Well, you barely texted me all weekend and you only called me once to actually talk to me.”

“I let you talk to the kids.”

“I’m just saying. You clearly didn’t think about me very much.”

George snorted. “I thought about you a lot.”

She pouted melodramatically. “But you didn’t call. You didn’t even text. You didn’t let me know that you were thinking of me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Em, I was changing diapers and handling demanding food orders and sorting out near constant bickering over the TV. And I had to make sure to get the boys to hockey practice. When was I supposed to have time to let you know that I was thinking of you?”

“You’re smart,” she replied flippantly. “I’m sure that you could have figured it out.”

He sighed. “Get off my bed.”

“Why?”

George stretched his arms over his head. “Well, I haven’t had dinner yet. I should probably eat.”

“I brought you some leftovers. They’re downstairs in the kitchen.”

“If Ed hasn’t eaten them already.”

George slowly climbed off the bed. “Ed won’t eat my food. He’s not home.”

Emma popped off the bed. “Well, you’d better go downstairs and check on that because he was in the kitchen when I got here. He even nicely let me in.”

“He was? I could have sworn he said that he was going over to Nora’s tonight.”

She shook her head as they headed towards the door. “Nope, they’re both in your kitchen as we speak.”

“Weird.”

* * *

Nora and Ed were in fact in the kitchen, and Emma’s leftovers were in the fridge. “Dad made dinner,” she explained as he pulled the covered plate out of the fridge.

“Well, no one thought that you did,” Ed quipped.

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Edward.”

He grinned cheekily. “My pleasure.”

“I appreciate the gesture,” George offered as he slid the plate into the microwave.

“Henry was afraid that you’d starve to death.”

“A reasonable concern given that I don’t have a refrigerator, neither Ed nor myself can cook, and I don’t know how to call for takeout,” he commented flatly.

Emma shook her head. “It’s a good thing that you don’t talk like that in front of my father.”

“I know how to judge my audience.”

“You’re incorrigible. You know that, right?”

George grinned. “I’m the firstborn son of a firstborn son. I’m a college-educated white male. What else do you expect from me?”

“A little humility would be nice from time to time,” Nora muttered.

George’s phone buzzed in his pocket preventing him from replying to that remark. He pulled it out to see a text message from his brother. “Thanks again for watching the kids. They said they had a great time and they cannot wait for you to come back. Especially Jack.”

“Of course, we’ll be back when the baby comes. I can’t wait to meet her.”

“We?”

“Emma and me.”

“Henry is going to let her come?”

George showed his phone to his fiancée before replying, and she took it typing a quick reply. “Annie is going to stay with him. You know how he adores her.”

“Nicely done,” John replied. Then another message came through. “The kids cannot wait for your wedding. Cate can’t stop talking about it.”

George smiled before tying. “Yeah, she asked me so many questions about it. She’s clearly really excited.”

“We all are,” his brother replied. “You and Emma, finally, this is a big deal.”

George showed his phone to his fiancée. “I may not have contacted you very much, but I spent a lot of time talking to our niblings about you.”

Emma looked over the conversation and smiled. “Alright, fine, you win. You did think about me while you were down there.”

“Because I love you,” he replied before kissing her forehead.

“Smart man,” she quipped before kissing is smirking lips.

* * *

A/N: The end...for now!


End file.
